We're Not Brothers For Nothing
by Elphiefan95
Summary: A Sherlock Holmes fanfiction based of the Granada series "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" with Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke/David Burke. It includes Mycroft Holmes (Charles Gray) and Inspector Lestrade (Colin Jeavons) working with Holmes (as I love these two on the series!). They are on the scent of an unknown killer! Enjoy!


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Sherlock Holmes never really told me much of his relatives. That mysterious topic was not a usual subject he would bring to my notice when in my presence. The only relative he would mention on various occasions, was his brother Mycroft, who I have met recently, on the count of him wanting help in a case in need of my friends assistance. Mycroft was an interesting fellow, much like his brother, and was a man of bulky stature, which gave him a such a strong presence, which added to his refreshing, enthusiastic personality. Whenever he visits 221 B, I would often observe how much he acted like my friend and how much they compare with each other, in the matter of logic, intelligence and observational skills. He was the older brother and very much a man of a unique charisma, much like Holmes himself.

Yesterday, I encountered Mycroft who seemed in desperate agitation for my friend to solve a very grim mystery, which clearly interested Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes was perched on the window sill, peering and observing the streets of busy London, purely out of idleness.

"Ah, Watson, salvation! Brother Mycroft is here." I moved to the window, after reading The Evening Newspaper, and noticed that Mycroft had brought Inspector Lestrade with him, who seemed to me, in a manner of complete distress as he seemed to be having an agitated conversation with Mycroft, who appeared to be in a disputatious mood with Lestrade due to his excited hand gestures and annoyed expressions, which made Holmes rather concerned. He clearly knew, much as I, that something devilish was afoot.

"But Inspector, this is nothing to be concerned about, I'm sure Sherlock will assume this "case" of yours in nothing more than a practical joke." I heard Mycroft holler up the stairs, followed by heavy footsteps.

"Yes, but Mr Holmes, you are ignoring something evil that will put your brothers life in danger." Lestrade answered back, in a loud tone, which made my friend exchange an alert expression at me, which I did the same. He then walked excitedly to open the door to let them both in, as they both came charging in, Mycroft huffing and puffing, while Lestrade appeared to be quite red in the face due to desperation and urgency.

"Mr Holmes, I am adamant that you take a look at these three letters, and persuade your brother to take this situation seriously." Holmes offered Lestrade and Mycroft a seat on the settee, while Holmes and I were much concerned at what had caused this unexpected frustration between the two men. Lestrade passed the letter onto Holmes who took a look at it, with much confusion and thought in his expression.

"Inspector, there is no need to take this blasted situation seriously. It is just a practical joker who delights in causing commotion and worry for Scotland Yard and we should not pay attention to it. It is a common joke, that should not make you concerned, Lestrade." Mycroft clearly appeared to be annoyed at Lestrade's ignorance.

"It is no joke, Mr Holmes. You may not know, that these letters...are written in blood." Sherlock Holmes stood scanning the letters each individually before looking up in surprise.

"Blood?" Holmes answered with concerned eyes, as Mycroft gave Lestrade a dumbfounded expression.

"Written in blood? Well, why didn't you say so, Inspector?" Mycroft exclaimed.

"I only found out this a few minutes ago, from Constable Peterson, who examined the letters back at the yard, who came to me and informed me of it after you stepped in your brothers hallway."

Mycroft blinked in thought and hesitated before returning a look of eagerness to his brother, who was holding the letters up to the light.

"Well, Sherlock, what do you make of them?" He said, leaning with concern, clearly taking the situation seriously, which made Lestrade relieved, as he leant back in his seat, rubbing his forehead.

"Death threats. Death threats aimed at me. This is quite unusual. The paper is English quite thin and creased. The handwriting of a mans hand, as you can clearly see by the blocked letters, written in blood which has dried quickly. It looks as if it was written in haste. An anonymous sender who no doubt has knocked coffee all over the corner of one of the letters."

"What do they say, Holmes?" I asked in concern.

"Well, Watson, they are very grim indeed. The first letter reads ;

"You do it very well, Mr Holmes, there is no denying that. You have crossed my path without you knowing it. You may wonder who I am, and what I want, but know this, I hate the sight of you. You are arrogant in your ways, quick in your observations and proud in your nature, which makes me heave. I will find you and certainly end your life. However I may do it, I will make you sure you never cross my path again." " Holmes gave a serious glance towards me before reading the next one, while Mycroft and Lestrade quickly gave each other a concerned glance. He read the second letter, which he read;

"You think you are clever. You think you are better than every other soul on this Earth. You are not. You may think you are, you are wrong, oh so wrong. I am determined to show you, just how clever I can be. Do not think you will get the better of me, I will soon see you dead."

Sherlock inhaled a breath and furrowed his brow, completely taken aback by these threats. He sat in his chair next to the fire to read the final letter.

"You know not of my presence, or of my skills, but I will show you, by god I'll show you. You will be dead in puddle of blood by the time I'm done with you. You don't know who I am, but I know who you are. I don't care if I hang for it. Whatever you may intend to do with these letters, will bring you closer to me. I swear it on my life. Dead you will find yourself. Dead by my hand."

Holmes placed the letters aside on the arm of the chair, before putting his finger tips together while staring at the letters in a serious manner.

"When did these letters arrive, Lestrade?" His voice lowered, which gave the impression he knows this is a bizarre, sinister case.

"Well, the first once arrived a week ago and-" Holmes cut off Lestrade. "A week ago? Why have you only just consulted me?"

Mycroft looked at Lestrade in hesitation, while Lestrade answered "We wanted to know whether these were hoax letters or not, so we waited to see if there were more letters which would arrive at Scotland Yard, before we consulted you about it. Because there was just the one letter, we didn't want to trouble you, Mr Holmes, as you are no doubt a busy man."

Holmes gave a humored smile

"I see. Prey, do go on Lestrade."

"The second arrived two days ago, and the last yesterday evening." Holmes blinked and glanced at the fire. Mycroft went to sit down in my chair opposite his quiet, intense pose.

"It is a horrid, business indeed, Sherlock."

"What I want to know is, Mr Holmes, is why the sender decided to send them to Scotland Yard, and not straight to your address?"

Holmes blinked and smirked at Lestrade's usual enthusiastic tone.

"Indeed, Lestrade. The sender no doubt, craves attention. His intention of sending them to Scotland Yard instead of me, was he knows I would be informed of these letters by the Police and endeavored to have a wider audience."

"Yes, but, wouldn't he assume you would tell Scotland Yard about his threats?" Lestrade frowned in curiosity.

"No, Lestrade. If this man has been watching me, and knows my nature, he will know I deal with matters like these in my own way, and I do not bother Scotland Yard as I am independent in my career, since I know that you, Lestrade, have other matters to attend to."

Lestrade blinked and laughed "Well, we haven't really, Mr Holmes. Not much has happened lately. It is only now that this grave matter has been brought to my attention, and I was desperate to get your brothers do not know who this man is and why he wants you dead, but your brother and I will happily assist you in any way we can. If your life is at stake, then we are at liberty to help you."

Sherlock Holmes smiled at Lestrade, clearly grateful by his words.

Mycroft grinned a tooth-filled grin as he leant forward and observed Holmes had gone into a focused state.

"Sherlock, this is indeed a case which has clearly interested you. I will say that, with your permission, I will be more than happy to catch this devil, even if it means getting into danger."

Holmes looked at his brother, quite amused by Mycroft's sly and determined tone.

"I am grateful brother mine, but I do not want to risk another life in my career." He glanced at me with a softened look. "I would rather not do that again."

"You are not risking other lives, Sherlock. You are only risking yours if we do not help you catch this fiend." Holmes stood up and leant against the fireplace. Lestrade finally broke the silence.

"Mr Holmes, we insist you let us collaborate with you. Your life hangs on the balance."

"No, Lestrade, I shall handle this on my own. It is aimed at me and I will solve this case without your help. Although I am grateful to you both, I will not want to risk your lives. "

Holmes frowned and leant his elbow on the mantelpiece. Mycroft stood up in determination and abruptly stood face to face with his brother.

"Now, Sherlock. Mother always said to me to stay by your side and never let you stray. We have always lived together, played together, traveled together and always argued together..." Sherlock Holmes smiled with a snigger.

"We are grown men and though we go our own ways, we will always be brothers, Sherlock. I will help you get this devil, despite the consequences, we are not brothers for nothing..." Holmes became amused. Though he was adament his brother wouldn't help him, he clearly felt gratitude how strong-willed Mycroft was.

Holmes sat down and replied with a smirk.

"Very well, Brother Mine. You shall help me, as will Lestrade and of course, friend Watson and no doubt we will catch whoever despises me and wishes me dead."

Lestrade nodded in agreement with a grin, but stopped.

"One question, Holmes, do you think the letters were written in someone else's blood, or was it his?"

Sherlock Holmes blinked and smiled.

"No, Inspector. I deduce the blood is of a dead man."

"Could you be sure of who?" Mycroft curiously asked. At that moment, Inspector Gregson rushed in, in a burst of urgency. "Mr Holmes, it's Murder! Cold blooded murder!"

We all sat concerned at the Inspectors agitation, while Sherlock Holmes sat in ecstasy, excited at this sudden outburst.

"Gentleman, we begin the scent of my determined killer. No doubt this murder is the start of our sinister investigation. Come! The game is afoot!"

With that, we began on the trail for this unknown, and hateful killer.


End file.
